


Tall Tails

by TerresDeBrume



Series: AUs without a cause [49]
Category: Mortal Instruments Series - Cassandra Clare
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M, Shadowhunter Magnus, Warlock Alec Lightwood, Wordcount: 1.000-5.000
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-04
Updated: 2016-10-04
Packaged: 2018-08-19 11:29:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8204545
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TerresDeBrume/pseuds/TerresDeBrume
Summary: Alec has something that a Shadowhunter really, really shouldn’t have.





	

 

“ _Your feet—”_ Magnus clenches his teeth, barely restrains from clicking his tongue in annoyance, and swallows hard around the familiar shape of Balinese so he can switch to Alicanti: “You’ve got clawed feet!”

 

A pause, filled with awkward shuffling.

 

“Yeah. And a tail.”

 

It swishes as Alec speaks, ridiculously large tell belying the boy’s steady pose and casting a snake-like shadow against the dimly lit walls of an unnamed New York bag end. Magnus settles into a proper fighting stance before he fully registers the threat, fingers tightening around the ivory handle of his kris—he’s not surprised when Alec squares his shoulders, raises his fists in front of his face, tightens his entire body as his claws dig into the pavement with sickening cracks.

 

Magnus’ throat stings bitter with bile, blood beating at his temples, but he doesn’t back down—doesn’t even let himself look away from his supposed friend. He was, after all, trained better than that.

 

“I don’t want to fight you,” Alec says, folding himself into a smaller target even as his tail reaches backward, “But I will if you make me.”

“I never doubted that.”

 

Alec’s widening eyes, the way his tail and fists fall out of stance, the abrupt slack to his mouth—all of it was painfully predictable and, for all intent and purposes, Magnus should be reaching for the opening, plunging snake-like blade between too-visible ribs.

 

He lowers his hand instead.

 

For a long while, they stay silent—Alec, flushing and looking for something to stare at amidst the trash and Magnus, cold and wet after the kelpie threw him in the river and so very, very tired—then Alec says:

 

 

“He—it took my father’s face. Tricked my mother and the rest of them and stayed until I was born.”

 

Alec’s words thicken with the heavy accent he inherited from Robert, but they don’t falter even as he talks of Robert’s long absence. His shoulders slump though, and Magnus sees his fists tightens at his side.

 

“I’m not entirely sure how they kept it a secret, but they did. In a way, being exiled helped them…it let me stay away from Idris until—”

“Until you figured out how to hide your marks.”

 

Alec shrugs, resigned, and Magnus closes his eyes, uses his free hand to pinch the bridge of his nose. There’s a warlock in from of him—a warlock with stupid fucking Runes all over his arms, worrying at his lower lip and shuffling from foot to foot, the way Magnus has always seen him do.

Something, somewhere, must either hate him or have a very peculiar sense of humor to have put him there.

 

“So,” he manages through his budding headache, "who else—”

 

He’s not sure why he thinks of Jace, at first.

Jace, with his narrowed eyes and insistence to stick to Alec’s side like glue whenever Magnus engages the eldest Lightwood on topics Jace doesn’t have the same grasp on. Jace and the way he switched to a defensive attitude as soon as Clary even thought about questioning Alec.

Jace, and his deep-seated hatred of all things he deems less than human.

 

“Jace doesn’t know,” Magnus sighs, “does he?”

“Of course not,” Alec says. Magnus stares at him and Alec brings a finger to his mouth, shrugging as he chews on the skin there: “You can’t keep a secret when you’re two,” (So, Izzy knows then.) “but you can when you’re eleven.”

 

A pause.

 

“Or nine.”

“You mean—”

“I don’t think Max and I would have been all that close either way,” Alec hurries to say before Magnus’ surprise can shift into full blown offense, “he’s always liked Izzy better than me. It’s okay, really. I don’t mind.”

 

Magnus is so busy gaping, he barely registers Alec’s fingers lighting up with magic in time to dodge them, slip behind Alec and sheathe his weapon in one swift move. He raises his hands in defense then, hurrying to promise:

 

“You secret is safe with me!”

 

The truth of it bangs against his ribs, vibrates along his arms and into his palms with a speed that should alarm him but doesn’t, not really. But Angel, he means it more than he thought was possible, and when Alec pauses—worries at his lip again until it just sits there red and swollen from the bite—Magnus’ armpits prickle with sweat.

 

“No one can know,” Alec says at last grave tone etched into his features, “all right? And my parents can’t know that you know.”

 

Magnus nods, eyes still fixed on Alec’s lips and the red teeth marks at the corner of his mouth—behind them, a street light flickers to its death, making Alec’s eyes shine a bright shade of electric blue—making Magnus take a step closer.

 

Alec doesn’t back away, which Magnus is perfectly willing to count as a victory.

It’s the middle of August and the air is warm around them, cocoons them like a blanket, which may or may not explain in part why Magnus thinks it’s a good idea to step even further into Alec’s personal space.

 

“I’ll take it to my grave,” he promises.

 

Maybe he shouldn’t.

The Clave is bound to find out sooner or later—they’ll take Alec’s marks, at a minimum, maybe worse. Most likely, they’ll want to know why Magnus didn’t notify them—there will be all kinds of awkward questions and unpleasant consequences and, worst comes to worst, deaths, too.

Yeah, the day the Clave finds out is a day that’s going to suck big time for both of them.

 

Magnus doesn’t give a fuck.

 

Alec is taller now than he usually is, strange lizard feet propping him several inches higher than what Magnus is accustomed to, and having to raise his head for what follows is an entirely new sensation for him.

Alec’s lips on him feel perfect though, even if it’s easy to tell Alec doesn’t have much experience with kissing. Magnus doesn’t complain.

 

Not even when Alec’s tail wraps around his waist and all but makes him squeal in surprise.


End file.
